Bella's Story
by MrsHalfBloodPrince
Summary: What happens when Bellatrix tells her master that she has fallen in love.
1. Chapter One

She sat in the dining room hall, holding tightly onto the arms of her chair, her chest heaving. She waited. The dim lights that illumed the manor house flickered as she drummed her fingers, impatiently. Where was he? Had he changed his mind about meeting with her?

She waited a few minutes longer, before standing up to stroll over and peer out the window. She felt stupid for thinking such a thing. Why would he actually come through the front door? He's the most prevailing, and glorious, master that Bellatrix Lestrange had ever met, heard, or read about. He was brilliant. The Dark Lord was her pride and ecstasy. She would do anything for him, just to kiss from his lips; to feel his hand upon her back, and his long fingers stroking her neck.

Bellatrix sat back down and resumed the drumming of her fingers. The portraits of her sister's family members were snoring quietly in their frames. She was disturbed by this, and wanted very much to shut them up. But at that moment, there was a short tap at the door, and it was pushed open to show a tall wizard with shimmering crimson eyes. He did not have to knock, but for some strange reason that Bella did not know, he did.

"Good afternoon, Bella," said The Dark Lord, in his high, cold voice that made the hairs on the back of her neck stand. He sat down next to her. He pointed his wand at the table and not even a second later, a piece of parchment appeared. It was sprawled with the short, stubby writing of Lucius Malfoy. "This will suffice, I think."

"My Lord, will you tell me what this is?" asked Bellatrix, confused by the haphazardness of the parchment.

He studied her with his blazing look for a few seconds, that had seemed much longer, and said, finally, "It is a farewell note."

"A farewell note?" she repeated, with utter astonishment. Had Voldemort finally finished off Lucius Malfoy, the man who had screwed himself up so much that it landed him in prison? "Does this mean..."

"He is dead."

She felt her body quiver. This was it, she couldn't take it anymore. She felt so close to him that her breasts heaved even more. She breathed faster and felt herself move closer to him. Voldemort, however, noticed nothing.

Upon realizing this rejection, Bellatrix's breathing slowed. She looked away to hide her saddened face. He stood up and said, "We have to go meet with Narcissa to tell her of her husband's passing."

"Oh, she won't be pleased," chortled Bellatrix, who had regained her composure, and she stood up as well. There was a shuffling of footsteps behind her, so they both turned to look. She saw a whip of a cloak, and began to chase after it, but her master put her hand on her bare shoulder, and she stopped. Chills, instantly, ran down her spine and to her toes. She felt the hair on her head tighten. She closed her eyes and took in the fleeting sense of intimacy she had with him.

"Let the poor boy go," said Voldemort. He had let go of her shoulder, but Bellatrix still felt his hand resting there. It seemed that the person who had run out of sight was Draco Malfoy, the son of Lucius and Narcissa. She did as she was told, and followed her master to the living room to depart for where her sister was known to be.

After Disapparating to Knockturn Alley, fully shielded by a disillusionment charm, the Dark Lord and his faithful servant entered the shop that was renowned for selling and buying dark and mysterious items: Borgin and Burkes. A necklace that was said to have a deadly curse put upon it; the Hand of Glory, which gave light only to its holder (both of which Draco had owned); and other things, like shrunken heads, skulls, and many more.

Narcissa Malfoy was in the backroom, picking out things for her new shelf in the family room. It pained Bella to think that her family only consisted, now, of her son Draco. But she didn't say this thought out loud, and, luckily, she was a skilled Occlumens, so her master wouldn't know her thoughts.

"Cissy?" Bellatrix called. She had her back turned to her sister, and didn't look around to acknowledge her. "Narcissa, I really need to speak with you."

At this, she turned. Her face was livid, and her skin might've gone paler when she noticed Lord Voldemort at Bella's side. "H-hello, my Lord. Bellatrix." She inclined her head to each of them.

"Narcissa," began Bellatrix. "This was left on the dining table." Voldemort handed Narcissa the note from Lucius. She tore it open and, after reading the first line, put her hand over her chest, fell back against the shelves that surrounded them, and tears began streaming down her face. She threw the letter down once she finished reading it. Bella ran to comfort her sister. She looked up and saw that The Dark Lord appeared bored. "Cissy, what is it-?"

"DON'T!" screamed Narcissa. "Don't you dare act like you didn't have anything to do with this!" She scrambled to her feet and ran out the room. Voldemort and Bellatrix were left, shocked. How had she known? The note clearly stated that he was to leave her and be with another woman from France. That he had left, early, that morning. How did she come to that conclusion?

"Don't comfort her any longer," said Voldemort. "She doesn't want it, so you will oblige."

Bellatrix didn't know what to say. She stared at him as if this was the first time she had seen his face. Her body swayed and she found a chair to sit in, that hadn't been there a second ago. "My lord…I might've just lost my sister forever…"

"I understand," he said simply.

"You do not." She stood up. Her voice hadn't changed tones, but she did feel her anger rising. As she headed for the door, without looking back at her master, she said, "You will never understand the sole purpose of a family. Or love…never, my lord."

She left the room to go find her sister. Borgin, the shop owner, was using his wand to dust the higher up shelves. "Where is my sister?" Bellatrix demanded in her deep voice, and constricted with the utmost hatred for the man in front of her, who had done nothing to her. He turned to face her, timidly falling back against the window pain. "Where is she, I ask!"

"Madam Lestrange, I know nothing of her whereabouts!" he responded, fighting to stay valiant, for he knew the woman could kill him with just the flick of her wand. Well, anyone could, but Bellatrix had, supposedly, no conscience in this category. "She Dissaparated without saying, Miss."

"Indeed?" asked Bella, tauntingly. "You know nothing? You swear this on the Dark Lord, himself? Who happens to be in the backroom, right now?"

"I do, Madam," he said, pleading. "I know nothing."

"Alright," said Bellatrix, plainly. She looked at the door to the backroom. She couldn't see anyone there, but assumed Voldemort was disillusioned. She Dissaparated to the Malfoy Manor.

The locked gate opened at her touch, and she headed up the pathway to the great white mansion. The peacocks strayed away from her, surely afraid. She opened the front door, and went inside. Bellatrix headed down the hallway to the staircase, and up them, retreated to her bedroom.

An hour later, there was still no news of Narcissa. Nor was there a sign of anyone else in the house, so Bella assumed Draco had gone. She called for Wormtail, but he was gone, as well. She touched her Dark Mark, and proceeded to the dining room to await her master. Surely he would understand that she was sorry for her words.

Once entering the dining hall, she noticed a dark mass at the high end of the table, in front of the fireplace. It surely was the Dark Lord. She sat at the opposite end. "Bellatrix, you couldn't possibly think that I wouldn't understand the principles of love, family, and friendship… these privileges were not given to me as a young boy, surely you know this. For you have studied my past more than Dumbledore! You husband happened to be one of my good…er...friends in school. I can only imagine all that he's told you."

Bella was silent the entire time her spoke, for he was actually speaking to her. She has only been granted this honor a few times before. "M-my lord…please. Please forgive me. I made a terrible-"

"Not a mistake, Dear Bellatrix. You meant it, I know this." He stopped speaking, and studied her for a moment.

"My lord, I apologize," she said, sincerely.

"You do not need to apologize," said Voldemort, and Bellatrix's eyes widened with shock. "I agree with you. Or at least, I agree with what you were trying get at in your fury, in your anger. I understand it is difficult to want intimacy with someone who does not 'love.'"

Bellatrix sat, even more shocked than before. How had he known that she felt this way about him?

"And don't bother wondering how I knew this," he said, shocking her more and more with every word he spoke. "I have known for a very long time."

"My lord, if you only understood…" she stopped. He had said that he understood already. Her face fell into her palms. She didn't know what else to say. Would he shun her? Banish her from his side? Would he kill her right there? She deserved it, she knew this. How dare she feel 'love' for her master? She should feel only pride, honor. Not love. Never love.

Voldemort had stood up. He walked to her chair (or, actually, he glided towards her) and knelt by her side, and placed a firm hand on her neck. This looked strangely like something a smitten man might do. Oh, shut up, thought Bellatrix. Stop thinking like this. It's not going to happen, so shut up!

"Accept from me that I will do my best to fall in love with you."

He had a glint in his eyes that was anything but crimson. It shone a brilliant silver; his pale hands, long and trembling. Why was he acting so foolish? This isn't Voldemort anymore. This is someone who has fallen.

"My lord, please," begged Bellatrix. "You don't need to do this. I'm just a daft woman who is lost in this world. Don't pity me."

"I do not pity you," said Voldemort, raising his eyes. "I do, however, want to make things work between us. It is most difficult of me to…succumb to this sort of behavior, Dear." Bellatrix was struck dumb in the chair she resided in.

"My lord, it is most gracious of you to treat me like a lady for once."

"Once, yes," said Voldemort, his lips curling into what could only be a smile. "Do not expect me to act so foolish again."

"Yes, sir."

"And there's no need to call me 'sir'."

This is Bellatrix's dreams come true. Anything good that could possibly ever happen to her has happened on that fateful day. The day was marked on her calendar the following day. Voldemort had killed Lucius; he made Narcissa leave (and go who knows where); Draco had left, as well; and the house was left to Bella. She got Voldemort to herself. Her adoration and lionizing didn't have to continue inside of her head. But wait?…. Where was Rodolphus?


	2. Chapter Two

Rodolphus sat on a sidewalk in Knockturn Alley. He felt his arm burn. Voldemort was calling him, and all of the other Death Eaters. He arose, and stretched his legs as he headed down the street. There was no point in trying to retrieve a wand; the Wandmaker was taken. After stopping to think for a moment about what to do, he headed to Borgin and Burkes.

"Borgin, if you'll be so kind." Rodolphus said as he approached the man, who had been silently humming a hideous tune as he read an article out of the Daily Prophet, evidently frightening him because Borgin stopped humming, twitched and his pupils dilated.

Borgin made no attempt to speak, and instead, he stood to greet the Death Eater. "Master Lestrange, it is an honor as ever. Pleased to see you again, sir. Is there anything I could help you with?" Rodolphus could tell that Borgin was willing to oblige to anything.

"Yes, I need to use the fireplace." Rodolphus strolled to it without Borgin's permission. He threw the Floo powder in and stepped in. Waving goodbye to Borgin, he said, coolly, "Malfoy Manor."

He stepped out of the flames into the dining hall where Voldemort and Bellatrix were sitting, quite still, not making a sound, only staring at the table. Voldemort had conjured small wizard figurines from his wand. One was of Harry Potter, the other of Voldemort, himself, and they were dueling, although not so much dueling as it was Voldemort throwing a killing curse at Potter, and then reanimating him. So this is what a dark wizard does in his spare time? Rodolphus wondered. He took a seat next to his wife, and grasped her hand. She was shivering.

"Where are the others, Lestrange?" asked Voldemort as he eyed Rodolphus' grip of Bellatrix's hand. The Dark Lord had made the figurines vanish.

"My lord, I do not know the answer to that," he said, simply, shrugging and then letting go of Bellatrix's hand like he had been holding a flame. He did not know what had happened, but assuming things always led to trouble with him, so he did not bother to wonder. A few seconds later, several other Death Eaters entered through the fire and took their place at the table. Soon, it was filled almost completely, except for one seat. Rodolphus looked around to see who might be missing. There was Yaxley, Snape, the Carrows, Avery, Mulciber, Crabbe, Dolohov, Mcnair, Nott, Rookwood, Travers …where was Malfoy?

This question seemed to be on every one of the Death Eater's minds. Malfoy should be sitting in that empty seat. Rodolphus saw all the curious faces, and then at the end of the table, he saw Voldemort smirking, slightly. There was a connection, he knew it; Malfoy was gone thanks to the Dark Lord. He turned to look at Bellatrix, who was still quivering. Rodolphus didn't know why. Has something happened to her before her got there? When he first entered Malfoy Manor, it has just been her and...the Dark Lord. He always found her fondness for the Dark Lord odd. It was stronger than the way the other Death Eaters thought of Him. It was almost love. Or was it love? Did Bellatrix feeling a deeper connection to Him than praise?

This was irrelevant now. The meeting was going to begin and his idiotic thoughts would take him nowhere. Just as he put the meaningless questions out of his mind, Voldemort began to speak, in his high, clear voice that all the Death Eaters knew so well, and that Rodolphus somewhat missed. "So, I have finally called all of my Death Eaters to me, and all I get is mindless questioning for Lucius Malfoy? This is pathetic. You-" He pointed to Rodolphus. "- And many others have been in Azkaban for years, yet you do not thank me for my 'hard word' at getting you out?" He lifted his chin and stared at his 'followers.' "Pathetic."

"Master, we do appre-" began Alecto Carrow, but Lord Voldemort put up his hand in for silence. "Of course, of course," she muttered under her breath. Rodolphus smirked at her stupidity.

"As I was saying," Voldemort continued. "As useless as you seem, I still need you. Tonight, there is someone among us that has, dare I say it, betrayed me." Still holding his wife's hand, he felt it tense as The Dark Lord spoke. "Betrayed us. Betrayed everything for which I stand for."

"Wh-who?" asked Alecto, who evidently had forgotten that she had been silenced.

Voldemort, however, ignored her. "She is someone who has been close, but last night….oh, last night, this witch decided to act of her own accord, rather than doing as she's told. Because of this, we must treat her…'special.'" His lips curled into somewhat of a smile.

"Master…" Bellatrix muttered, but Voldemort silenced her.

"Now, what do we do to those that betray?"

"Kill 'em!" shouted Amicus. "May I do der kill'n, sir?"

Voldemort smirked, and a couple brave Death Eaters chuckled. "Master, please," begged Bellatrix.

He ignored her. "Enough." The commotion died down. "There will be no killing tonight or torturing, for that matter. This case is a special one. One to be treated delicately."

What the hell was going on?, thought Rodolphus. What had I missed while I was perusing the streets of Diagon Alley, at The Dark Lord's request?


	3. Chapter Three

Narcissa Apparated as soon as she walked out of the backroom in Borgin in Burkes' shop, without even waving goodbye to Borgin. Her mind was running as fast as she was spinning. She wasn't thinking properly about where she would Apparate to and found herself in Surrey, England. _Odd,_ she thought. _Isn't this where the Potter boy lives? _She walked onward. Why was she brought here? Surely there was a reason. Was she to talk to Harry? Or was she to find herself elsewhere?

There was no use putting off thinking about Lucius. It was bound to come up sooner or later. She walked on and heard eerie squeaking. Startled, she turned around and saw a playground. There was a swing set, a slide, monkey-bars and other playground necessities. Narcissa walked on and sat in one of the swings.

Lucius was gone. He was dead. What would she do without him? Why would Bellatrix lie about something so horrible? She could sense the lie, easily. "Narcissa, this was left at the dining room table." Oh, bullshit. The Dark Lord wrote the damn thing himself.

Narcissa recalled something that her sister had confided in her only a week before: Bella was in love with her master. In love! With He-Who-Cannot-Love! Oh, how ludicrous.

"Narcissa," said a voice behind her. She screamed and jumped off the swing set. Snape was standing a few feet away. What was Snape doing in Surrey? _Oh_, she thought,_ he lives only a few blocks away._ This must be why she was brought here. "What, if I may ask, is so ludicrous?"

"Oh, hello, Severus," she breathed, holding her chest afraid that her lungs might pop from being so frightened by Snape's sudden arrival. Had she really said that out loud? "It's nothing. Really."

"Would you like to go back to my home?" asked Snape, politely.

"I-I don't think that's a good idea. I would rather I-"

"Nonsense, you look paler than ever. I will fix you up something to drink and we can discuss things." He walked over to Narcissa and took off his coat; she was shivering. He put his coat over her shoulders. _Much better, _she thought.

They began to walk to Snape's house, which was farther than Narcissa would have liked. Snape had heard her sigh after a few minutes of silence. He moved closer to her.

"Severus, may I ask how you came across me in the park?" she had asked, finally, for this question had been on her mind for several minutes now.

He looked around to pair of them, checking to see no one was in sight. "I will be completely honest with you, but I will have to tell you in secrecy, when we reach my home...which seems to only be less than a block away." Narcissa saw the river and the hill where her sister had killed the fox only a year before. _Almost there._

"Alright," she replied, simply.

They reached Snape's house, at last. He opened the door and, graciously, allowed Narcissa to enter first. She walked over to the same couch where she had sat when she pleaded for Snape's help only a year previously. She felt a tear roll down her cheek. This was where she had begged Severus to watch over Draco, because the Dark Lord was punishing…Lucius. "Oh, dear," she sighed, as she fell into the couch seat. Snape sat across from her.

"Would you like something to drink now? I have stocked up on my elf-made wine. Comes in handy, these days... Unless you would like something a bit...stronger, in which case, firewhisky comes into the picture." He was talking fast, probably to try to get Narcissa's mind off of Lucius.

"I would like you to answer my question, first."

"Ah, yes. Of course. Well, I am sure you are well aware of Lucius' absence-"

"He is not 'absent,'" she interrupted, bitterly, "as you so lightly put it. He is dead."

She was showing hardly any emotion, but that was because she felt hardly any. She was confused, quite frankly, and blank. "I-er...I wasn't aware that he was dead," said Snape, shocked.

"Why would the Dark Lord do away with him like that?"

"Is this why you betrayed Him and left?"

Narcissa gasped. "Betrayed?! He thinks I have disobeyed his honor?" Can't the Dark Lord see that she was distraught? Why would he kill Lucius!

"Well, of course. Which is why he has set us to search for you. Luckily, I ran into you before another Death Eater did, or you would be dead."

"I am being searched for..." she looked away. "Severus, I would like that drink now. Firewhisky, if you don't mind."

Snape got up and went to his kitchen, while Narcissa sat there, still shocked that there was a wanted sign over her head. The Dark Lord is clearly out to eliminate the Malfoy blood line. _Hopefully, Severus will keep me safe_, she thought.

Snape returned with two glasses filled to the brim with firewhisky. This was one of Narcissa's least favorite drinks, but she knew that she needed it. Snape handed one of the glasses to her, and she drank nearly half the glass as soon as her lips touched it.

"Cheers," said Snape, smiling slightly, and taking a drink of his own.

"My husband is gone," she said, setting her glass on the table between them. "Gone because of a silly mistake. My son was almost taken, but thanks to you, he was saved. I'm basically dead, but of course, thanks to you, I am safe for the time being. Oh," she sighed, and picked up her glass once again, finishing it. She felt her stomach and throat burn, but enjoyed the numbing sensation she felt only seconds later.

Snape had finished his glass while Narcissa spoke and was sitting back, waiting for her to say something else. She waited for his reply. "I am, of course, glad to be of service to you, and I hope nothing happens to you. I am very sorry about the loss of your husband and I hope it is safe to say that Draco will be alright but you never know." He was losing his eloquence with every word he spoke, but Narcissa didn't mind, because she was feeling more drawn to him than ever before. She moved closer to him.

"I wish I could offer more comforting words. I realize I'm not sounding like myself anymore…" Snape's eyes appeared glazed over and wandering into realms that didn't exist in a sober, firewhisky-free world. Narcissa felt like joining him. She stood up, gained her balance, before striding over to Snape and sitting on the carpet in front of his knees.

"Severus," she said to him, "I don't care." She smiled, and rested her hands on his knees. "I hope you don't, either."

He leaned forward, kissed her forehead, and said, "No…I don't, either." He kissed her down her nose all the way to her lips where he broke away for a second, studying Narcissa's small, lustrous lips. She put her hands on his neck and pulled him off the chair, on top of her.

**AN: Woooo, I am so happy that you guys kept me going. I actually have a plan now, things are going to happen. Oh-oh, you be ready. It still might take a while to get the next chapter up. Don't give up on me! And thank you for sticking this long.**


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